


Broken Heart

by TheBasilRathbone



Series: Pacemaker [2]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Alec and Ellie Are Already Dating, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bickering, Established Relationship, F/M, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Medical problems, Nightmares, Self-Esteem Issues, heart problems, heart surgery, lots and lots of bickering, mentions of past infidelity, pre-established
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBasilRathbone/pseuds/TheBasilRathbone
Summary: They've only been dating a few months when Alec Hardy's heart condition worsens to a dangerous degree. Ellie tries to take care of him. Alec tries to avoid being a burden.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Series: Pacemaker [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652722
Comments: 16
Kudos: 198





	Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the scene where Hardy has a nightmare about finding Pippa's body, then breaks down in tears. Because damn.

She wakes to a gargling, choking sound.

It’s not unusual for her to dream about crimes. Screams from violent couples, smashing windows from burglaries, car alarms. She doesn’t see a lot of violent crime, so strangulation is rare, but it is a dream, after all.

Or she thinks it is, until the bed shaking rips her out of her half-slumber.

Alec is wheezing and gagging, turning over on his side as though to cough up imaginary water that he’s been drowning in.

She doesn’t need to ask what he’s been dreaming of.

“Alec,” she whispers, reaching for him. He’s still in a daze, eyes wild and searching as though not sure where he is. She grabs for him, rolling him onto his back and hovering over him so he can see her face, see that he’s not back there, that it’s her beside him and not Pippa’s body. “Alec, it’s alright. It’s alright, I’m here.”

He seems to recognize her, at last, and his eyes fill with tears, but he’s wheezing again, and heaves upwards so quickly that he almost slams his forehead against her chin.

“Alec!”

He groans, clutching at his chest, groping with his other hand on the bedside table. His shaking fingertips hit the pill bottle and send it rolling away and onto the floor.

“Ugh!” He doubles over, hand fisting the fabric of his t-shirt so tightly she thinks he’ll tear it apart. “El…”

She scrambles over him and off the bed, finding the pill bottle wedged between the table and the wall. With shaking hands, it takes her a couple of tries to get the lid off, but she manages to dump half the contents onto the tabletop, picking up two and snatching the glass of water at his side. He holds out a hand, but she bypasses his palm and places the pills directly into his mouth, handing him the water and holding it steady as he takes a long drink.

She sets the glass aside and sits next to him, rubbing up and down his spine with long, firm strokes until his fingers slowly unclench from his t-shirt, the pains in his chest easing.

The agony from his nightmare and the fear from his heart scare seem to hit him like a train, and Ellie watches as his face constricts and twists, and then he’s burying his face in his hands, wracked with sobs.

They don’t often get the luxury of spending the night together, but Ellie is not a stranger to his nightmares.

The first couple of times, he threw off the covers and stormed out of the room, brushing off her attempts to reach for him. It was if he was angry at himself, though Ellie knew it was most likely embarrassment. Eventually, she had given him a few minutes to cool off before following him out. She’d found him on the porch, perched on the edge of the wooden bench, staring unblinkingly into the darkness, still only in his pajamas despite the cold. Dragging a blanket along from the sofa, she’d wrapped it around her own shoulders before squeezing herself into the space between his body and the back of the bench. “Go back to bed,” he’d growled, but she’d only wrapped the ends of the blanket around him, sliding her arms around his middle and pressing a firm kiss against his shoulder blade. “Just shut up, Alec. For my sake, if not yours.”

She wasn’t sure what part of that encounter had worked, but the next time it happened, he’d still thrown the covers off, though he sat tense on the edge of the bed, his back to her and his breath heavy. She’d crawled across the mattress on her knees, settling in behind him once again and massaging his shoulders, his back, following her fingers with a trail of kisses until he sagged back against her, allowing her to pull him back into bed and settle him under the covers.

She’d never seen him fall apart quite like this, however.

Ellie draws him against her chest, holding him tightly as he weeps, his entire body convulsing with the force of it. She rocks him gently, heart breaking for him.

He’d often referred to his reputation for being a heartless bastard, and Ellie suspected that keeping people at arms’ length was a strategy meant to disguise how very, very much he cared. The depth of his emotions often took her breath away, though he was rubbish about talking about it. He could remember details from cases from a decade ago, could remember the pain on the victim’s faces, could recall precise locations that gruesome things had been done to them. He was still haunted by the cases he solved, and plagued by the ones he couldn’t.

“Alec,” she says gently as his sobs start to subside. His face is tucked into the crook of her neck, and she’s repeatedly brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Alec, I think maybe I should call an ambulance. Your heart…”

“S’no point,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Nothin’ they can do.”

“They can insert a pacemaker, for one.”

“Not tonight, Ellie,” he pleads, his whole body sagging against her in exhaustion. They’d had this fight before, again and again. “Please. Can we jus’…go back to bed?”

She cradles his head against her chest as she lowers him back down against the pillows, crawling back over his body onto her side of the bed. He reaches for her immediately, and she lets herself be pulled in, held tightly against him.

The dreams have gotten more frequent, since his renewed attention to the Sandbrook case. She’s taken to helping him with it. Spending her precious little free time doing detective work is not something she particularly enjoys, but if they can solve this thing, then maybe he can finally find some peace.

“M’sorry I woke you,” he murmurs, and she shakes her head.

“I don’t ever want you to go through that alone. I hate to think of you having those dreams at home when I’m not there.”

His grip on her tightens, almost imperceptibly, and she knows that he hates experiencing it far, far more than she hates thinking about it.

* * *

Her phone buzzes in her pocket halfway through helping Fred get his knapsack together for nursery. To survive in her job as a single mother, Ellie has had to put some rigid boundaries in place, so she ignores it until the pack is zipped, his shoes are tied, and he and Tom are heading out the door for school.

Except it wasn’t work. Her missed alert was from Alec.

It’s not an unusual thing, for him to call. It’s unusual for him to call twice in a row without sending a text asking her to call him back.

With a building sense of dread, she dials him back, surprised when he picks up on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’s wrong,” he says immediately, though his voice sounds tense. It’s a sign they’ve been together a while, now, when she can tell the difference between a normal grumpy voice and a ‘something’s wrong’ grumpy voice.

“You called me twice in five minutes, Hardy. ‘Fess up”

“Promise you won’ yell.”

“Not a chance. I’m gonna start yelling in two seconds if you don’t start talking.”

He sighs. “I jus’…wanted to talk to you before I went in.”

“Went in where?”

A pause. “For surgery.”

She can already feel the beginnings of her blood starting to boil. “ _Heart_ surgery?!”

“Ellie-“

“The dangerous surgery that you’ve been putting off for _two years_ because of the risks? You thought you’d just casually give me a call beforehand, without ever mentioning that you were actually getting a surgical procedure done? For god’s sake, Alec, I saw you two days ago!”

“I know,” he groans. “I know, I jus’…didn’ want t’ make it a thing.”

“A thing,” she scowls. “Like a medical procedure thing. Except it’s, you know, a medical procedure.”

“You’d’ve jus’ come sit with me, El. Would o’ been a waste o’ yer time.”

“What is wrong with you?! You fucking idiot. You absolute fucking idiot. You’re lucky you’re going to be doped up on painkillers when I come in there and tear your head off.”

“Ellie,” he groans. “I know yer angry, alrigh’, I jus’…I’m about to be wheeled in an’ I jus’ wanted to talk to you before I do. In case, y’know…”

“ _No._ No, you do _not_ get to give me the ‘in case I die in there’ speech after hiding this from me! You stupid bloody wanker.”

“Ellie,” he breaths. “Jus’ shut up, would you?”

“Fuck off! Telling you that I’m pissed does not even _begin_ to describe how angry I am right now.”

“I…love you, El.”

She’s so stunned and angry that she’s nearly lightheaded. “Fuck you, Alec Hardy. You do not get to say that for the first time now.”

His voice is gruff, now, and Ellie knows it’s difficult for him to put himself out there like this. “Felt it for a while, now. Jus’…needed you t’know. Don’ want you t’ say it back. Jus’…needed to say it. I…” He sighs again. “Nurse is pointin’ t’ the clock on the wall, guessin’ tha’ means I need t’ go. I do love you, El.”

“Ooo,” she seethes, clenching the phone so tightly in her hand she feels as though she might crack it. “If I didn’t love you so bloody much I would go in there and bribe the surgeon to botch the surgery and kill you. Then have him revive you so I can kill you myself. I will cut off your balls and put them in a fucking jar on my mantlepiece.”

His breathy chuckle just makes her more furious. “I’ll…I’ll talk to you in a few hours, El.”

“No, you’ll be shutting up while I scream in your face in a few hours.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Knobhead.”

The line goes dead.

* * *

The first thing he sees when he wakes is her murderous expression.

“I’m alive,” he breathes, laughing weakly in disbelief.

“Not for long,” Ellie hisses, clenching his hand so hard he flinches. “What the actual fuck, Alec?”

He shakes his head, laughing in relief. “I made it, I made it through. Oh, don’ look at me like tha’. I jus’ didn’ wan’ the whole…heartfelt bedside confessions rubbish.”

“Except you rang me to tell me you were about to go in, when I couldn’t be there with you!”

“I shouldn’t’ve. M’sorry. I jus’…I jus’ needed t’ tell you. In case, you know.” Trying to lighten the mood, he shifts experimentally, wincing in pain. “Did you get the surgeon t’ cut off my balls?”

Ellie huffs, throwing herself into a chair at his bedside. “That was only if you’d died. You lived, so castrating you would just be a punishment for me, too. And you’re going to need them when you’re spending the next lifetime making it up to me for what you’ve done.” 

He grins at that. “Jus’ think of all the things we can do, now I’ve got a proper heart.”

“Not for four to six weeks, according to the doctors.”

He groans at the thought. Knowing he’s suffering seems to have eased Ellie’s foul temper, and when he limply hangs his hand over the edge of the bed, she takes it, entwining their fingers together and squeezing gently.

“Forgot t’ ask, can I get a ride home, later?”

She snorts. “You’re not s’posed to be left alone for at least twenty-four hours after getting discharged. You’ll have to stay at my place.”

“I don’ need a babysitter.”

“Clearly you do,” she spits, angry again, though she doesn’t let go of his hand. “And if you’re a misery to be around while you’re recovering, I’ll kick you out and you can get the bus home.”

“Noted,” he breathes, unable to keep a smile off of his face. He’d survived surgery. That night at Ellie’s had scared him into action, and for all of his fears and over the past two years, he’d survived it. He’s survived it, and not only had Ellie not been scared off by his confession of love, but had reciprocated. She had reciprocated, but it had been under the pressure of surgery, of his possible death. But she wouldn’t say something she didn’t mean, not even in those circumstances. Not Ellie.

“I’m going to go get some coffee,” she says after a long moment, finally releasing his hand and getting to her feet.

“I do love you,” he murmurs, turning his head to meet her gaze.

“I’d love it if you were less of a knob.”

A horrible sinking feeling settles in his gut, and Ellie must see something in his expression change, because she steps in close, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead and planting a kiss there.

“I love you, too. Now try to get some rest, yeah? I’ll be right here if you need me. Still pissed the fuck off, but I’ll be here.”

He must have dozed, because he comes to with a blurry image of a brunette and a man in a white lab coat at the end of his bed. He thinks it’s Ellie, at first, but as his vision focuses, it’s Tess that’s speaking softly with his doctor.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he croaks, mouth feeling dry and cottony. The nausea from the anesthesia has started to kick in already.

Tess looks up, a calm smile on her face. Her hair’s done up and pulled off her face, and she’s wearing makeup. She hasn’t stopped by after work, then, too dressed up for that. “Suddenly had the feeling you might die. I felt I had to drive over and see you.”

He tries to speak, but he can’t seem to pry his tongue off the bottom of his mouth, now, and Tess steps forward to take the cup of water from his bedside, lifting the straw to his mouth.

He watches her as he takes a sip, pulling away slightly so she knows to place the cup back down on the little bedside tray.

“How’d you know I was here?”

She purses her lips together in a tight smile. “Daisy told me. She’s been worried all day, I asked her what was wrong. You could have said something.”

“Why?” he asks. She sighs at him, a very familiar sound, and settles into the chair beside his bed, reaching out to take his hand. Had he been any sharper, he might have been able to react.

“What do you mean? You were my husband, Alec. I still care about you.”

“Didn’ do us a lot o’ good when we were married, did it?”

She purses her lips together again, though it’s less friendly, now. “Things haven’t been easy on either one of us, Alec. Not for a long time. I’m tired of fighting with you.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting a burst of nausea. “Mm. What happened to Ian? Or Owen, or Ewan…”

“Evan,” she corrects. “And…it didn’t work out. Been over for a while, that. Alec…” Tess sighs, shuffling forward in the chair as though telling him a secret, something intimate. She used to do that same thing, perching on the edge of her seat, when she was sharing something personal with him. “Alec, when Daisy told me, I kept thinking…I thought if you had died and I never said that… When the pendant was stolen from my car-“

“When you were shaggin’ Dave while we were still married.”

She huffs. “You took the blame. You covered for me, just so I wouldn’t get the rap. You’re a good man, Alec.”

He grunts. “They would have ruined your career. I got away with mine. Just.”

The attempts to brush her off, to pretend that such a torturous act of sacrifice had been done purely for logical reason, went ignored.

“I loved you for that,” she tells him. “I want you to know that.”

“But not enough.”

“Okay!” Ellie chirps loudly from the doorway, fumbling with a coffee cup and a small brown bag. “You can’t have caffeine, but I brought you some sort of horrible-looking pastry that might be a-oh. Hello.”

She looks at Tess, then Alec, then drops her gaze to where their hands are clasped together. Alec quickly pulls arm back, but Tess is already standing.

“Hi. I’m Tess,” she greets, casually offering a hand. Ellie hesitates, but shifts the items clumsily in her grasp before returning the gesture.

“Ellie,” she says tensely. “I’m sorry, I…didn’t know he called you.”

“He didn’t. Typical,” she laughs, like it’s an inside joke shared between them. If only she knew. “Our daughter filled me in. So you’re off the hook. I’ll drive him home, and you can go back to the station. Or go home, if you’re done.”

“Oh. Um, right.“ She looks to Alec. “Shall I...?”

“Ellie’s not a colleague, Tess,” he croaks, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again, turning his head to look at the two of them. “She’s…we’re together.”

“Oh.” He can’t see her face, but he knows her well enough to imagined a pinched expression. “I see. Daisy didn’t mention.”

“Haven’ told her, yet,” he replies, squeezing his eyes shut again. A wave of nausea rolls over him, and he curses the anesthesia. “But been months, now.” His stomach heaves. “El-“

“You gonna be sick?”

“Yeah.”

Ellie springs into action, slipping past Tess and grabbing the bin at his bedside, placed for precisely his purpose. She eases him onto his right side and positions the bin under his chin, just in time for him to wretch and vomit. Ellie rubs soothing circles into his back, murmuring kind words so he’s not left completely alone with the sound of his own sick.

“M’sorry.”

“For what?” Ellie asks, as if this is a totally normal occurrence. She sets the bin back on the tray and then pulls several tissues from a nearby box, helping to wipe his nose and mouth. “Do you want water?”

He nods, and she lifts the straw to his mouth for him to drink.

“M’sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” she scolds gently, brushing his damp hair away from his face as he drinks. “Caught your doctor outside. Said they recommend you stay in for at least a night.”

He tilts his head to rest against her fingertips, relaxing further into the bed when she begins to stroke his cheek. “Take me home.”

She huffs. “Knew you’d say that. Wanker.”

“Not for four to six weeks.”

When they remember that Tess is still standing there, Ellie clears her throat uncomfortably, dropping her hand from his cheek and blushing.

If possible, Tess looks even more uncomfortable than Ellie, tugging uselessly at the hem of her blazer as though it wasn’t straight to begin with.

“Well, I can see you’re in good hands. Happy that you’re okay. Take care of yourself, won’t you?”

Ellie looks to him, as though giving him the opportunity to protest, to ask her to stay or to take him home instead.

“M’fine. Tell Daisy I’ll speak t’er soon, yeah?”

“Alright.” With another terse smile, she hesitates, nods, and then turns to leave.

* * *

Tom and Fred has been unceremoniously dropped off at her Dad’s, and so the house is quiet when they arrive. He can’t do much of anything, with his left side out of commission and stitches threatening to rip with any movement, and so she has to untie his shoes for him, snapping at him to shut up when he grumbles about it. It’s a bit of a relief, when he speaks. He’s even quieter than usual on the drive home, even as she prattles away and tries to prompt him with conversation. Though it may very well be due to the nausea, she isn’t sure.

They had stopped at his place for a few changes of clothing, and now as shewrestled with the bag, she catches sight of him lingering in her hallway, examining the wall of photos hung up in frames, each one carefully selected for their lack of Joe’s presence.

Alec’s own flat looked sorely like the bachelor pad it was, photo-less and practical. Even Daisy’s bedroom was frilly and pastel, decorated when she was twelve and never updated.

Though it’s windy and a bit damp, Alec chooses to settle into one of the chairs in the backyard, insisting on the fresh air to quell his nausea. She joins him with two mugs of tea, a glass of water, and a blanket, all carefully balanced in her arms. The mugs are placed on a side table, the glass of water handed to Alec, and the blanket draped over his shoulders to keep him warm.

He’s dressed more casually than she’s ever seen him, other than pajamas, in his usual shirt with a jumper over top and a dark pair of trousers. He’s moody and contemplative, so she pops open the pill bottle as per the doctor’s instructions and presses two into his palm. He washes them down with the glass of water, then sets that aside for the cup of tea she hands over instead.

“You warm enough?”

He nods slowly, eyes fixed on the same spot on the ground.

“Still feeling the nausea?”

He shakes his head, barely noticeable. It’s like he’s actually disappeared inside his own head, and is barely listening to the outside world.

She sigh, resting her hand on his knee, squeezing gently to get his attention. “Can you just say something so I know you’re not about to go into a coma on me? We don’t have to have a chat.” And then, contrary to what she’s just said, “Is this about Tess showing up at the hospital?”

He seems to draw himself together, pulling himself back to her. He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. “No. Yes.”

“Do you...regret turning her away?”

“No,” he says. “‘R...not in the way y’think.”

She squeezes his knee again. “Right. Can’t just leave me with that and not say anything else.”

Eyes still closed, Alec sinks a bit further into his chair. “I didn’ wan’ this. I didn’ tell you I was in hospital ‘cause I didn’ wan’ this.”

“What, me showing up and interfering with Tess?”

He groans, frustrated. “No, I...we’ve not been together all tha’ long, yeah? Not long ‘nough for you t’ be playin’ nursemaid for me. You’ve had t’...chase yer boys out o’the house to sit an’ feed me pills, it’s...”

She’s quiet for a long moment, so long that he opens his eyes just make sure she’s still sitting there. “Right. So, are you saying this now because you don’t think you deserve to be taken care of, or because you want something, someone, else and feel guilty about wanting it?”

“Don’ psychoanalyze me,” he scowls.

“Then talk to me and I won’t have to.”

“I don’ wan’ Tess. Not anymore.” He stares down at that same bloody spot on the lawn for several moments more. “She called me a good man, today. For takin’ the blame for the pendant.”

“Don’t think anyone would argue with her, there.”

“But nothin’...changed. I didn’t jus’...make some grand gesture t’ win ‘er back. I was trying’ t’ protect ‘er. Always tried, it didn’ matter. It didn’ stop ‘er from fuckin’ around behind my back. The man I was wasn’ enough to keep ‘er thedd first time around, nothin’s changed. She comes ‘round every time she’s feelin’ lonely, but it never lasts.”

“She’s got issues, Alec. That’s not exactly news.”

“You called me a good man.”

“Mm?”

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back. “The night we met. When I...told you about Pippa. Findin’ ‘er body. You said I was a good man. An’ then Tess said it today, an’...jus’ brought it all back.”

“Brought what back?” she asks, pulling her chair closer. “Thinking about Pippa?”

He finally straightens, dragging his eyes open as if he barely has the energy to lift his eyelids. “‘M fuckin’ exhaustin’, Ellie. ‘M fuckin’ exhaustin’ t’ be around. Doesn’ matter if they think I’m a ‘good man,’ doesn’ stop me from being a misery. I jus’...suck the life outta people. M’own daughter doesn’ wanna be around. An’ if my...” he tilts his head back and forth, as if working up the ability to spit out the words, “ _personality_ wasn’ bloody bad enough, m’job, and the health issues, and the _fuckin’_ nightmares...”

He’s pulling in shaky breaths, now, looking like he might keel over right there. Ellie keeps her hand on his knee, knowing there’s nothing that she can say right now that’s the right thing to say. The pit of self-loathing he’s dug himself into is deep, and far, far out of her reach.

“Alec…” Of all the things she wants to hear, it isn’t that she reminded him of Tess. Or vice versa. And certainly not in the midst of a self-loathing rant.

He sets the mug down on wide arm of the chair and hauls himself up, grunting in pain. Ellie stands quickly beside him, but he shrugs her off. “Need t’ lie down. ‘M exhausted an’…bein’ a prick. Can I…should I stick t’ the sofa?”

“My bed,” she replies, shaking her head. “Right at the top of the stairs. D’you want me to-“

“S’fine,” he says tensely, shuffling inside, shoulder’s hunched. “M’fine.”

* * *

She waits nearly five hours before going in to check on him. She’s almost afraid to open the door, as if she’ll find him cold and pale, his heart having given out hours before.

But he lifts his head as soon as she pokes her head in, and she grimaces. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Nah. Just…dozin’ off again.” He’s laying on top of the covers, still wearing the clothes he wore home from the hospital, and it occurs to her that he hadn’t been able to get himself undressed.

She gently pushes the door open, not asking permission. Perhaps afraid of what he’d say.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue, just painfully lifts himself up and shuffles back so he can lean against the pillows. Ellie turns on the lamp in the corner and sits gently on the edge of the bed. The idea of the bright overhead light seems too harsh, somehow.

“How you been feeling?”

“I’ve been a right prick today,” he says quietly. “‘M not good this this. Any of it.”

“I know,” she soothes. “Hasn’t been an easy day for either one of us.”

“Yer day was shite ‘cause o’ me.”

“You didn’t make it any easier,” she agrees with a small smirk. “But you could have died today, Alec. You scared me with the surgery, and you scared me a few hours ago with what you were saying.”

“M’fine.”

“You’re not. Or you weren’t. But can’t imagine what I’d do if I saw my ex again, so can’t really judge, can I?”

He snorts. “Bit different, your ex and mine.”

“Painful in different ways,” she reasons. “Look, I’m not going to throw nice words at you, because I don’t think you’re in any place where you’re going to hear them. Or believe them, at any rate. But people are shit, Alec. They are. Especially at our age. Nobody gets to be single at our age without some serious fucking baggage. And it’s shit. Regardless of your home life, Tess cheated on you, and she let you take the blame for her mistake. That she keeps popping in and out of your life enough to keep stringing you along, whether it’s intentional or not…it’s shit. But somehow what you got out of all that is just believing that being a grumpy arse makes you a shittier person than everyone else.”

Alex lifts his good hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tha’s not…”

“That’s exactly what you said. You threw yourself under the bus to protect your cheating wife and shield your daughter from her actions. Tess is an adulterer, my ex-husband...Christ, where would I even start? Then there's Brian, from my work. He hit on me while I was still married. Didn’t bother him then, still asks me for drinks, the creep. Lucy, my sister, is a disaster of a human being and most of my contact with her over the last two decades has been her asking me for money. My friend Beth’s ex-husband had an affair. I could go on and on.”

“So people are shit, is the point yer makin’.”

“The point I’m making is that I don’t understand how some bad dreams and a shitty mood makes you so impossible to be with. You’re divorced, Alec, so’s fifty percent of the British population.”

“Yer simplifyin’. S’not tha’ easy.”

“Maybe not, but I’m simplifying to prove a point. Your ex-wife, who willingly divorced you, told you today that she loves you and that you’re a good man. Not many could say that about their ex-husbands, I certainly couldn’t. Ask me for something.”

The rate at which her rambling switches gears leaves him dizzy. “Wha?”

“Ask me for something. You’re shit at asking for things in a relationship. You give far more than you ever should and then back off before anyone can reciprocate. It’s bloody annoying. So ask me for something.”

“Like wha’?”

“Anything. What do you want?”

“A functionin’ right atrium and ventricle?”

Her hard expression makes him sigh. The thought of asking her for something intimate, something personal, makes his gut twist uncomfortably. An unwanted realization crept up, that Tess had always lost interest in him as soon as he had run out of resources to give, whether it had been time or attention or patience. She had sought it elsewhere when he couldn’t give her more, with seemingly little thought to how badly his job had drained him, how empty he felt by the time they divorced.

Alec turns his gaze towards the ceiling, swallowing thickly against the nausea that threatens to rise, though he’s not sure how much of it has anything to do with the lingering effects of anesthesia.

“Lay with me,” he says at last. “I know i’s early, but jus…lay with me here a little while.”

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, moving to the right side of the bed and crawling in beside him, throwing an arm around his waist and curling a leg over his own. He wishes he was wearing pajama bottoms, something with a looser leg so that she can do that thing where she skims her foot up and down his calf, teasingly higher each time. She cuddles in closer, burying her face against the crook of his neck, careful not to brush against his chest and cause him pain. They shifted until he could bring his good arm around her, holding her close.

“That’s all it would’ve taken, you know.”

“Wha’s tha’?”

“‘Ellie, I’ve got surgery booked for next week. Could you be there and stay with me through the recovery?’ All I would’ve needed.”

He felt an irritating swell of emotion build his his chest, dangerous for a man in his condition.

“Well,” he croaks, desperate to ease the mood. “I’ll remember tha’ for my next heart condition.”

“Piss off,” she scolds, but kisses his neck anyways. “We shouldn’t fall asleep. We need to give you a wash and get you dressed for bed.”

“I don’t need help in the bloody bath.”

She pointedly ignores him, snaking a hand under his jumper and shirt to rest against the skin of his abdomen.

The sound of his mobile ringing makes him groan, which only intensifies when Ellie’s warm hand slips away, reaching across him to glance at it.

“Ignore it,” he pleads, but she glances at the caller I.D. and waggles it in front of his face. “It’s your daughter. D’you need me to…?”

“No, s’fine.” He reluctantly pulls his good arm away from her to take the phone, holding it up to his ear as he watches Ellie rise from the bed, finding his bag on the floor in the corner and beginning to pull out something for him to change into. “Hi, Darlin’.”

“Dad?” Her voice crackles in his ear, and his heart warms. “Dad, you said you were going to call. Are you okay?”

“Mm. Fine, Dais. Jus’ needed a lie-down. S’been a long day. Sorry for scarin’ you. M'fine.” He watches Ellie lay out a set of pajamas at the end of the bed, then, with a teasing smile, move closer, slipping her hand up his trouser leg to grasp the top of his sock, sliding it off and then tossing it towards the laundry hamper.

“You okay? Mum said you looked pretty rough at the hospital. Well, worse than normal.”

“Steady on, Dais, I jus’ had a literal knife in my chest this mornin’.”

He can hear her soft huff of laughter over the phone. His eyes are falling closed again, the stress and pain and fear of the day having melted away into contentment and exhaustion. “Dad?” she says after a moment, sounding so, so young. “Are you going to be okay, now? Did they fix it?”

Ellie has removed both socks, now, and has pressed her fingers gently into the balls of his feet, a soft massage. She catches him staring, and gives him a tired but warm smile. 

“Yeah, Darlin’," he says. "All fixed. No more broken heart.”


End file.
